


cause i have no right to love you (when i chose to walk away)

by Limerancy



Series: all i ever wanted was you (and you alone) [1]
Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, Drunk Yata, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Introspection, M/M, Missing Scene, Pre-Relationship, Rated teen for swearing, Smoking, Soft Fushimi, it's Fushimi burning his HOMRA mark n that's it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:22:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25820548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Limerancy/pseuds/Limerancy
Summary: The first time. The first time. Fushimi wonders whenthe first timebecamewhen. When Misaki sees him. When Misaki looks away. When he wakes up alone. Fushimi wonders when he became Fushimi again, instead of Saruhiko. No one calls him that anymore, and he feels like maybe he deserves it. He’s justFushimi, he’s justthat man’s son. He’s no longer Saruhiko, Misaki’s friend, Misaki’s partner. Saruhiko, co-vanguard of Homra. Now he’s Fushimi, third-in-command of Sceptre 4.
Relationships: Fushimi Saruhiko & Kusanagi Izumo, Fushimi Saruhiko/Yata Misaki, Suoh Mikoto/Totsuka Tatara (mentioned)
Series: all i ever wanted was you (and you alone) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1873432
Comments: 8
Kudos: 67





	cause i have no right to love you (when i chose to walk away)

**Author's Note:**

> title is from is No Right To Love You by Rhys Lewis

The first few nights are hard. There’s no Misaki below him breathing, there’s no hum of their shitty fridge, there’s no buzz of failing wiring, no loud neighbors arguing with each other. He never thought he’d miss them. But here he is, wishing he was still there. He can’t seem to fall asleep without them.

He’s the one who left, yes. He’s the one who burned his flesh and their _pride_. Saruhiko thought it _meant_ something, their Homra marks being in the same place, right above their hearts. Guess not. All that matters to Misaki now is _Mikoto_.

Saruhiko scratches at it idly, hissing when his nails catch on raw skin. Good. It deserves to hurt for what he did, for _betraying_ his Misaki. Misaki and his _precious_ _Homra_.

But Saruhiko wakes up, sometimes, from dreams he can’t remember with that name on his lips. And he lets himself think, for a moment, that he might be lonely. 

_I’ll always come when you call,_ right?

Misaki must’ve forgotten his promise.

The first few times, it’s Misaki who attacks first. He yells when he sees Saruhiko and charges at him without listening to Mikoto or Totsuka or Kusanagi. It feels good. It feels good to have Misaki’s eyes on him again. He can’t look away from Saruhiko when they’re fighting and it feels good.

_Yes, Misaki, yes. Keep looking at me. Don’t look away. Only look at me._

He says things he doesn’t mean just to keep Misaki from looking away. He laughs when Misaki screams that he hates him, when he uses _Saru_ as an insult rather than his name, when he spits it into the ground instead of smiling. He laughs, but something inside him breaks.

The first time he sees Misaki and Misaki doesn’t see him, something tells him to keep it that way. He watches Misaki from an alley across the street and his chest burns. He tells himself it’s hate. He doesn’t want to think about what else it might be.

He follows Misaki to the park. _Their_ park. Misaki sits on _their_ bench and Saruhiko feels hollow. There’s still a space for him, that Misaki leaves—on purpose or not, Saruhiko can’t tell—and he wants to sit down. He wants to sit next to Misaki and make fun of him when he fails the level on his game again and listen to him ramble about nothing and feel the burning warmth of his body resting against Saruhiko’s side.

Now all he feels is the burn of Misaki’s flames, and Saruhiko has never liked fire. 

(There was a time where he didn’t like Misaki, but he’s forgotten what that felt like.)

Misaki still has the PDA Saruhiko made him on his wrist and he’s got the screen pulled up, but Saruhiko’s too far away to read what it says. He walks away before Misaki can see him and he feels like he’s leaving behind part of himself.

The first time Misaki looks away from him during a fight, Saruhiko sees red. A possessive rage writhes in his chest and he’s hit with the sudden urge to _destroy_ whatever took Misaki _away from him_. The voice that comes out of him shocks even himself, but it gets Misaki to look back at him. His eyes are wide and there’s fear swimming in them. Saruhiko doesn’t like the way Misaki is looking at him. It’s wrong, wrong. _Wrong._ Misaki doesn’t look at him like that. Misaki shouldn’t be afraid of him.

It’s not the first time he’s run away from Misaki, but it’s the only time he’s been scared.

The first time Misaki doesn’t fight him feels like a punch to the gut. He looks at Saruhiko with a sneer and he spits ‘ _fucking monkey_ ’ at him and he walks away. Saruhiko thinks, for the first time since he left two years ago, that he’s made a mistake.

The first time. The first time. Fushimi wonders when _the first time_ became _when_. When Misaki sees him. When Misaki looks away. When he wakes up alone. Fushimi wonders when he became Fushimi again, instead of Saruhiko. No one calls him that anymore, and he feels like maybe he deserves it. He’s just _Fushimi,_ he’s just _that man_ ’s son. He’s no longer Saruhiko, Misaki’s friend, Misaki’s partner. Saruhiko, co-vanguard of Homra. Now he’s Fushimi, third-in-command of Sceptre 4.

When he sees Misaki, he doesn’t hesitate to goad him into a fight. He never makes the first move, though. It doesn’t feel right when he makes the first move. Misaki is the hot-headed one. Fushimi doesn’t care, he _doesn’t_.

Sometimes, when they fight, Fushimi sees something in Misaki’s eyes. He doesn’t like it when Misaki looks at him like that, like it hurts to fight him, like he’s in pain. Like he’s not angry. Like he misses Fushimi. He doesn't like it. Misaki isn’t using his flames but Fushimi still burns.

When Awashima gently takes him to the side and softly tells Fushimi about Totsuka, he feels cold.

_The one you answer to doesn’t have to be me._

That night, Fushimi doesn’t sleep.

Homra’s closed but the lights are still on and there are familiar figures at the bar. It feels wrong, being here. He’s in the alley where he burned away his life with Misaki and it feels _wrong_. It’s been five years since he stood here. It still feels like it was yesterday, like he’s still that jealous teenager who was scared of being forgotten.

The side door to the bar opens and Kusanagi steps out. Fushimi can’t see his eyes behind those stupid sunglasses, but his shoulders are sagging and his head’s hanging. His shirt still has blood on it.

“If you’re here for Yata, I wouldn’t count on him being up for a fight right now.”

He _sounds_ like nothing happened, but Kusanagi never really lets his true feelings show. He’s always too calm and collected. It’s different from Fushimi’s careful indifference. It’s...unsettling.

He doesn’t reply.

Kusanagi sighs, carding a hand through his hair and sliding to the ground. Fushimi looks away.

“He’s dead, Fushimi. Gone.”

“I know.”

Kusanagi’s silent for a moment longer before: “We were there. Yata and I.” His voice is thick and his shoulders are shaking. “I watched him die. And Yata...Yata felt it. He was holding Tatara when he died. And I...I had to tell Mikoto. Do you know what it’s like? To tell your best friend that the man he loves is dead? That you couldn’t do anything to save him? That you were too late? We’ve known each other for so long and I—” Kusunagi cuts himself off, choking down a sob. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be dumping this on you.”

“Where’s Misaki?”

Kusanagi scoffs. “Inside. Probably halfway to alcohol poisoning by now.”

Fushimi scowls, clenching his fists. “And you call yourself an adult.” He spits the words at Kusanagi but the man doesn’t react.

“I’m tired, Fushimi. I’m tired of being an adult. I just want to mourn my friend in peace.” He pulls out a cigarette, flicking his wrist to light it. “If you’re so worried about Yata, go in there and find him yourself.”

No, Fushimi can’t do that. Misaki hates him. He’s the last person Misaki wants to see right now. Misaki doesn’t look for him anymore, doesn’t follow him. Fushimi turns to leave but Kusanagi’s words stop him:

“He’s looking for you.”

Fushimi turns.

“When I left. He was trying to get Rikio to take him to you.” He takes a drag of his cigarette. “If any of the boys give you shit, send ‘em out to me,” he says with a smile. But then it fades, and he’s actually looking at Fushimi now. “He still wants you.”

“He shouldn’t.”

“But he does.” Kusanagi’s cigarette crackles in the silence. “He talks big game, but he still needs you.” And with that, Kusanagi stands, brushing off invisible dirt. He tugs the door open, pausing for a second to look back at Fushimi. 

He takes the hint.

As soon as he walks in, he can hear him. Of course he can. He’ll always hear Misaki, always, even in a room of a thousand people.

But it helps that he’s so loud.

Fushimi hesitates at the threshold between hallway and bar. Just around the corner, Misaki is sitting at the bar. He notices Kusanagi and announces his return. Great.

Fushimi can still see Kusanagi where he’s stopped and Kusanagi can still see him. He looks back.

Tch. Fine.

Fushimi steps forward. The room goes silent. 

“Hey…” Kamamoto warns, but says nothing else.

“Saruhiko?” Misaki’s voice is soft and 

And he says Saruhiko’s name in a way he hasn’t for years and Saruhiko _burns_. All he can hear is Misaki, all he can see is Misaki. All of his sense are flooded; _Misaki Misaki Misaki Misaki._

And then Misaki’s right in front of him and Saruhiko can’t _breathe._ This is the closest Misaki’s been in years without trying to fight him. It’s overwhelming and Saruhiko has to fight the urge to hold himself up against the wall. His knees still feel weak, though.

“Saruhiko,” Misaki slurs and then he’s _touching_ Saruhiko and _fuck._ His unsteady hands press against Saruhiko’s chest, slowly wandering down and around, and then he’s hugging him with his face pressed against Saruhiko’s heart and

He has to close his eyes. It’s too much all at once. He lets out a shaky breath, forcing his trembling arms to come up and wrap around Misaki.

He forgets, almost, that there are other people there. Until he hears Kusanagi tell him: “take him home, Fushimi,” and he looks up to see everyone staring at them. Some of them know—they’re faces Saruhiko recognizes from his days in Homra—and they look sad, eyes downcast, and angry. But others have only seen Saruhiko and Misaki fighting and they’re looking at Saruhiko like they’ve never seen him before, looking at him like they don’t trust him. And Saruhiko thinks that’s fair. He doesn’t trust himself.

“Let’s go home, Saruhiko,” he feels, more than hears. He wants desperately to take Misaki home, to tuck him in and give him water and leave him Tylenol for the morning and stay with him until he falls asleep, because Misaki never could fall asleep alone and Saruhiko _wants_ but— 

“I can’t—I don’t—” He knows he sounds like a mess because he feels like one, but Misaki’s clinging to him in a way he hasn’t since that day with JUNGLE and he’s saying Saruhiko’s name like Saruhiko is worthy of him and it _hurts_ — 

A PDA screen floods his vision. There’s an address, the map open, an apartment complex marked red. “Can you remember that?”

“Yes,” Saruhiko breathes, because he’s already burned it onto his eyelids and he will never, ever forget because it’s _Misaki_. 

“Good.” Kusanagi slips his PDA back in his pocket and nods. “Take care of him, Fushimi.”

Saruhiko doesn’t reply because he’s already halfway to the door, pulling a stumbling Misaki behind him.

Well. That won’t do.

Later, Saruhiko will blame it on not thinking properly, despite the fact that he never has to defend himself to anyone about it. But _he_ remembers and in the light of day, when Misaki spits his name like a curse, he won’t let himself believe he did it for any other reason.

So Saruhiko leans down and Misaki falls onto his back, immediately wrapping his arms around Saruhiko’s neck. Misaki’s warm against him, burning, and Saruhiko has never liked fire but for Misaki, he would gladly burn. He slides his hands down to settle under Misaki’s knees and he wills his heart to slow.

It doesn’t really work.

“Saruuuuhiiiikooooo,” he fights the shudder that rises as Misaki’s breath ghosts his ear, “Saruhiko...why’d ya leave me?”

He stops. Five blocks away from Homra, Saruhiko is frozen in the middle of a sidewalk at three in the goddamn morning and his heart has just been ripped from his chest and stomped into the curb.

“Was I too annoying? ‘M sorry. Promise I won’t be ‘nnoying anymore.” Misaki’s voice breaks over the last two words, a sob hiccuping in Saruhiko’s ear and

He is a terrible human being. No, he’s not even human. He’s a monster. His father was right; all he ever does is destroy the things he loves because

That’s what it is, isn’t it? He _loves_ Misaki. He loves Misaki and it scares him. He’s forgotten what not-loving-Misaki felt like but he knows he doesn’t want to go back. But Misaki doesn’t love him. Not the same way. And Saruhiko’s a selfish bastard. He didn’t want to share Misaki with anyone, he didn’t want Misaki looking at anyone but him. He wanted Misaki all to himself. And when that was taken away…Saruhiko did what he does best: he burned that house to the ground with himself in it.

But...Misaki isn’t likely to remember this, is he? Saruhiko could just— 

“’M stupid. Don’t get things. Ya gotta tell me so I get it, ‘kay? Don’t want Saruhiko t’leave me again, so ya gotta say it ‘til I get it.”

Saruhiko starts walking again. He sighs. He opens his mouth to say something snarky, something safe, but what comes out is: “All I ever wanted was Misaki.”

He very nearly trips over nothing.

For some reason, his mouth seems to have its own separate plans and he can’t stop it.

“I wanted to stay with Misaki. I wanted Misaki to only look at me. But Misaki only looked at Mikoto. And I didn’t want to see Misaki look at Mikoto the way he used to look at me. I didn’t want Misaki to leave me. So I left first.”

Misaki doesn’t say anything for several blocks and Saruhiko’s just starting to think he’s fallen asleep when: “Saruhiko, I didn’t know you were so stupid.” He sounds, very suddenly, completely sober.

“What?!” He looks back to see Misaki glaring at him, pouting.

“Saruhiko, you’re stupid.”

“What do you mean?!”

“Saruhiko is stupid.”

“Stop saying that!”

“Stupid.”

“Stop!”

“Stupid.”

“UGH!”

Saruhiko feels Misaki smile against his neck. “Let’s go home.”

All the fight in Saruhiko dies. _Home._ His home is with Misaki, back in that dingy apartment at fourteen, them against the world. The home he wakes up in sometimes, forgetting for those first few seconds that he’s not there anymore. The home he still misses at night when he can’t sleep, the home with pineapple porridge and fruit hotpot and _Misaki._ His home is gone, burned away with everything else.

But he doesn’t say this, because he’s already said too much. So he keeps his mouth shut and when a sleepy Misaki grabs his sleeve as he’s leaving, when he lets the tears fall and tells Saruhiko about what happened on the rooftop and how he felt the warmth fade from Totsuka’s body, Saruhiko sits next to him on the bed and allows himself this small thing: two white pills arranged next to a glass of water; fingers carding through tangled red hair; a song sang quietly in the dark; lips pressed against a forehead for a second too long, long after Misaki’s breath has evened out.

And when Misaki sees him again a few days later, he spits Saruhiko’s name with venom—like he’s never said it any other way, like his mouth has never coated it with sweetness and it’s never fallen from his lips like golden honey, like Saruhiko is the one thing he hates most.

And Saruhiko _burns._

**Author's Note:**

> they never addressed the fact that yata was holding totsuka when he died and how kusanagi watched one of his best friends die then could do nothing while the other went on a suicidal rampage and how kusanagi had to be the adult and be strong for everyone else despite the fact that he lost both of his oldest friends in the span of like. ten days and i'm sad
> 
> for those wondering, the quote comes from chap 6 of Days of Blue when totsuka says: "why did you choose this path, fushimi? you don't have to answer it right now, but say it clearly with your own words one day...the one you answer to doesn't have to be me."


End file.
